


Roll Up Them Sleeves

by sellswordking



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:16:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sellswordking/pseuds/sellswordking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People come in and out of your life all the time, but you always remembered the important ones and the things they gave you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roll Up Them Sleeves

**Author's Note:**

> This is...literally in the loosest sense possible connected to my other fic, Life After Destruction (It's Pretty Cool). Mostly it's only a loose overview of Newt as a person, but you could see the end as aftermath of them hooking up.

Newt has always liked dudes, and dudes have, thankfully, always liked him.

Well, not _always_. There was a period of time, about junior high through maybe the first year of college that they didn't, but that was ten years, six tattoos, and three doctorates ago. Now, he was a rockstar, and that got him a lot of sex. But that's not what Newt was really thinking about, because it wasn't  _important_.

There had been three important dudes in all his life.

Dude numero uno, a guy called Geoff who was technically his superior when he was still interning and living off ramen and tap water trying to finish a thesis and his own personal experiments. Geoff kept him from getting thrown out of his apartment, spoke to him in German to keep Newt from getting rusty, and had the _prettiest_ blue eyes Newt had ever seen.

When they kissed for the first time, it was sweet and gentle and Geoff treated Newt like a bunny rabbit he was gonna scare off. The second time, Newt started it, and they swept everything aside and fucked on Geoff's desk. Not bad for the first time Newt ever actually, well, _had sex_  with someone. Actually, it was more than not bad, it was pretty damn _good_ , and Newt showed that he wasn’t delicate just because Geoff was 6’1’’ and built like a football player instead of a head lab technician.

Geoff _liked_ the way Newt whimpered, how he would just writhe and moan louder the harder his fingers pressed and the wider Geoff spread his legs, how _deep_ Geoff could get inside him but they didn’t last long.

Because Geoff was a good guy. He just _couldn’t_ be rough, it wasn’t in him despite the fact that he was like, _built_ for it. And Newt just didn’t have time for good guys, not when he was fast tracking to be a rockstar.

So, very gently, Newt let Geoff down, and Geoff was, _predictably_ , a good dude. Just because Newt couldn’t last in a relationship with him didn’t mean he wasn’t still one of the important dudes in Newt’s life. He'd always be the  _first_.

Dude zwei was Pentecost.

Yeah, _yeah_ , okay, Newt knows that this makes him a bad guy, a creep, whatever, but he wasn’t gonna apologize for it! It takes two to make a blowjob in the hallway where one of the lights doesn’t work right by the elevator that could’ve opened at any minute, alright, and he’s just, he’s not the only bad guy in this one!

Not with Pentecost having Newt’s hair between his fingers, ripping it from his skull and threatening things that were surely an abuse of power should anyone happen to hear them. After, you know, the indecency and fraternization charges were administered.

But that wasn’t really A Thing, what made Pentecost a _dude_ was the fact that after, he told Newt it would never happen again almost like he looked ashamed of what he’d done to _poor little Newton Geiszler_.

Pentecost was a dude because he made Newt realize that people would _always_ treat him like glass just because he was kinda small and _really_ smart, because he couldn’t hold his own in a fight, because pretty much anyone could physically intimidate him.

People would always be wrong about him.

The third dude?

The third dude.

Newt looked over at Hannibal where he was sprawled out, taking up most of the bed and snoring loud enough to wake dead kaiju. The bed was more than big enough for it, but Hannibal still kicked in his sleep, still woke up startled and lashing out.

And he never apologized.

He never asked Newt if he could handle shit, never asked if he was ‘going too fast', if the cuffs were too tight, if he was smacking too hard. He didn’t tell Newt when shit was gonna hurt before fixing his eye, or ask if Newt would be 'okay', just because he was smart and small and pretty easily overtaken.

See, Hannibal wasn’t just a dude. He was the _last_ dude, because he _understood_.

You didn’t spend that much time under the needle, inking every inch of yourself in the honor of monsters and machinery battling it out just to wuss out. You didn’t want to get close to kaiju unless you could handle it. You didn’t _drift_ with a _goddamn kaiju brain_ , a malformed fragment of a foetus’ brain, unless you were completely metal!

Just because Newt could pick his battles to keep himself from getting _really_ hurt, crippled, or dead, didn’t mean that he couldn’t _handle_ getting dirty.

And well . . .

One look. All it took for Hannibal to see it.

At least this time one look wouldn't lead to him getting swallowed whole.

Newt slid down the expensive sheets and untangled Hannibal's legs from the blankets so he could get between them.

 _Not in a way he didn't like, that is_.


End file.
